Retribution
by adsh
Summary: Missing scene to Retribution. Mark has found some peace from his demons and now Steve has found an outlet for his anger and jealously,too.
1. Default Chapter

Retribution  
A missing scene  
adsh  
  
Started out as a missing scene, but may turn into a case story...spoiler's self-evident. I'm not sure of the series timeline so this is after Jesse's brief incarceration for murder. Spell checked but not beta'd.  
  
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While Steve saw the last of the guests to the door, and Jesse and Amanda began cleaning up the dining area and kitchen, Mark stepped out onto the patio and took the opportunity to have a few moments alone.  
  
Listening to the pounding surf and inhaling deeply the salt air, he embraced the openness of the beach, the endless, open miles to the distant horizon where sea meet sky. The older man gave a quiet chuckle when he overheard Amanda gently berate Jesse for the way he was haphazardly stacking the dishes, and he greedily took in the comforting ambience of hearth and home, of feeling and hearing his family and friends near him and safe.  
  
The light heartedness and gentle joking that had pervaded the party that afternoon had been solely for the guests; after-all, he was free and he was home and no one, least of all Mark himself, wanted to delve to deeply into the nightmares of the last four months. So, though he dearly loved his friends and colleagues from the hospital and truly appreciated the surprise party to welcome him home; having to keep a tight reign on his still to fresh feelings of fear and hopelessness, pretend that by removing the physical barriers of his incarceration his psychological ones were also freed, made him feel caged in. Not unlike the bars on his cell had done for those many months and he was greatly relieved when the party finally came to a close.  
  
No--Mark Sloan did not want to delve into his psyche, into the unrelenting fears that had plagued him, he simply wanted to embrace his freedom with every fiber of his being and push the darkness away. He wanted to see it in the relentless waves crashing into the surf, smell it in the heavy salt air, he wanted for his food not to turn to ash in his mouth, hear the affection in his close friends banter, and mostly he wanted to feel it--to reach out and embrace his son and never let go.  
  
"Dad?" a tentative voice questioned from the doorway.  
  
Mark turned and smiled, his eyes drinking in the sight of his son standing before him, he motioned for Steve to come stand beside him at the patio rail. "I'm fine son. Everything is just fine now."  
  
"Are you sure?" Steve asked in concern. "You seem kind of...distant."  
  
"Just trying to convince myself that it's all real..." Mark trailed off.  
  
Standing silently, not quite knowing what to say, Steve was relieved to hear the phone ringing and Amanda call to him to the phone. As Jesse restacked the dishes to Amanda's specification he watched his mentor from the window and knew what the older man was attempting to do, what he was no doubt feeling.  
  
"Hey Mark." Jesse's said quietly as he stepped out onto the patio, closing the door behind him. "Beautiful, isn't it? Just seems to go on forever."  
  
Mark nods, not turning to his young friend.  
  
Moving to stand by his friend at the railing, eyes cast out onto the sunset, Jesse continued quietly. "When I was...when it...when it happened to me- -in between being terrified and hysterical I would think of being right here, of the ocean; Steve and I out there riding the waves. It helped me get through some of those hours, helped me feel just a little safer..."  
  
Still not turning to his young friend Mark whispered. "I wasn't that strong."  
  
"What! Mark how can you even think that?" Jesse exclaimed. "You were pulled away from your critically ill son and put through a farce of a trial, endured four months in prison not knowing what was going to happen, whether Steve would live...how can you say that you weren't strong...you made it out, you're here and you've been vindicated and Trainor is back in prison where he belongs..."  
  
"Did I? Did I really make it out?" Mark intoned quietly, finally turning to face Jesse. "I'm still terrified. I wake up at night in a cold sweat, food tastes like dust in my mouth. I see...I see Trainor standing at my cell door, taunting me, threatening my son, and I'm absolutely helpless to do anything..."  
  
Overcome with emotion, Mark trails off and hangs his head.  
  
Laying a comforting hand on his friends shoulder, Jesse feels minute tremors coursing through his friends over tense muscles. "It does get better. You will feel safe again, and the nightmares do lessen..."  
  
"Nightmares?" Mark looked up and gave his friend a concerned look. "I never sa...wait, you still have them--the nightmares. Jesse, it's been almost two years!"  
  
Now it was Jesse's turn to look away with a shrug, his voice rough as he tries to explain. "Two years, twenty, hell, two-hundred, it doesn't really matter; that feeling of being helpless, that unrelenting fear of being trapped, I don't think it ever really leaves, but it does lessen. Everyday that you wake up in your own bed, everyday that you can walk out your front door...every time you chose when and where your going to eat or flip a light switch on or off--the fear gets farther away..."  
  
"Ah, Jesse...son, we never knew." Mark said guiltily. "We were just so relieved to get you out and away from that place we never stopped to really think how bad it had been for you..." "That's because I didn't want you too." Jesse interrupted. "You...all of you, were there for me---but in some ways it wasn't enough, because no matter what anyone said or did or how hard anyone tried to understand what I was going through, it wasn't enough; my freedom to make even the simplest decisions about my own life had been taken from me and that was just a kind of terror that on one who hasn't been there could ever understand."  
  
"Until now." Mark said.  
  
"And I wish you didn't." Jesse said.  
  
"I know son, I know."  
  
Putting a comforting arm around his young friend, both men turned back towards the horizon, as the last rays of the sun slide across the darkening ocean; feeling the warmth of family, friends and understanding and tasting what it meant to be free.  
  
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TBA ???? I have a very, very short Steve response to the scene between Mark/Jesse and the beginnings of a case story with lots of angst for Steve. 


	2. Guilt

Retribution, part 2  
  
Missing Scene  
  
Adsh  
  
A/N: this next part is really, really short--with what I hope is enough Steve angst to satisfy the Steve fans!!!  
  
And in answer to some of my "lovely" reviews... TO SOME...Thank you for reading. I am sorry for the changing of tenses--it wasn't intended, sometimes I just get confused...I see my stories in my head as they would unfold as a show and sometimes I just screw up and use the wrong word--but, hey, that's why it "amateur fiction"!!! And to respond to "EGO"--when I ask for FB it is to see if I'm wasting my readers time...is the story worth reading or is it boring them to death and an invitation for constructive criticism to made it more palatable and to share ideas when writers block stalls a story, and occasionally a reader has thought of a better angle than I had originally intended...or if I should give up posting that particular story all together...just because I don't post doesn't mean I don't continue to write; I write for me first, the reader second. And speaking of 'ego'--just what have "you" posted lately?? Just for edification--flames amuse me to no end and do not keep me from writing or posting!!! There are stories out there a hell of a lot better than mine-- and there is equally a lot of crap posted out there....'reader beware'!!  
  
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Steve's call ended quickly and he was trying to decide how best to approach his father about what was bothering the older man. Not as good with words and traversing the minefield of emotion, Steve was particularly worried about his father's sudden reticence at discussing any problem that he may be having.  
  
'Perhaps a cold drink.' Steve thought, heading towards the kitchen. It always helped him to have a distraction during those strained silences that inevitable occurred in those heartfelt talks.  
  
As Steve passed by the open kitchen window heading towards the refrigerator bits and pieces of the somber conversation between his father and best friend filtered in on the evening breeze, pulling him up short. Without conscious thought he tuned fully into the conversation, feelings of guilt replacing his earlier worry.  
  
"When I was...when it...when it happened to me--in between being terrified and hysterical I would think of being right here, of the ocean; Steve and I out there riding the waves. It helped me get through some of those hours, helped me feel just a little safer..." Jesse's voice was quiet and distant, almost washed away in the pounding surf.  
  
Jesse's words both heartened Steve and yet filled him with unimaginable shame. 'Jesse had thought of him, of all people, to ease his fears-- the 'friend' Jesse should have been able to trust to keep him safe but who had instead been the 'detective' to read him his rights, the one who snapped on the cuffs... the one who had arrested him for murder?"  
  
Steve shook his head in disbelief. Guilt and uncertainty still plagued Steve over that murder case and what it had done to Jesse, that he had somehow not done enough for Jesse, in both trying to get him released on bail and in solving the case. All he could think at the time, and found him- self thinking two years later, was how much the young doctor should hate him for putting him through that horrifying ordeal.  
  
More guilt assailed Steve as he continued to listen to the quiet exchange, disturbed beyond measure by his father's words; of hearing out loud, from his father's own lips, how helpless and terrified the older man had been for the last four months as he worried about his son's well being, putting his own plight behind that of his ailing son.  
  
The quiet defeat in his father's confession hit Steve like a punch in the gut. How could he have let this happen; been the cause of so much pain and unrelenting fear for his father and best friend.  
  
Fueling Steve's feelings of total culpability for the two men's despondent countenance was the fact he could offer no comfort, no words or explanations that would drive away their fear and the nightmares.  
  
Thus, having nothing to offer to the conversation, he chose to not interfere, to not offer platitudes of understanding where there could never be understanding: after all, prison wasn't a place for him to understand or know, it was a place where the criminals he helped to bring down were banished away to deal with their demons out of sight of hope, of understanding, or compassion. Out of reach to family and friends, as Jesse had been, as his father had been.  
  
Turning from the window he continued his trek to the refrigerator, pulling out one beer and quickly heading out to the living room. "Anything left to do Amanda?"  
  
"I think everything is pretty much cleaned up." Amanda said. "As a matter of fact I was getting ready to head out myself, early day tomorrow."  
  
"Thanks for everything." Steve said helping her on with her coat.  
  
Giving Steve a quick hug she said sternly. "Anything you or Mark need, you call me."  
  
Giving his friend a genuine smile he replied. "Yes ma'am."  
  
"I'm going to go out and say goodnight. See you later."  
  
"Goodnight Amanda."  
  
Mark and Jesse's conversation had trailed off, neither having anything else to say, simply taking comfort in each other's presence.  
  
"Mark. Jesse." Amanda's gentle voice broke their revelry. "The kitchen is about put back in order, I'm getting ready to head out if you don't need anything else."  
  
Both men turned and Mark gave Amanda a heartfelt hug. "Thanks so much honey...I didn't mean for you to clean up the kitchen. I guess we just kind of got lost for a while.  
  
"Quite all right Mark." She replied with a smile. "You take care of yourself and I'll see you both on Monday."  
  
"See you Amanda." Jesse said, giving her a hug.  
  
As Amanda saw herself out Steve sat on the couch and watched out the patio door as his father and best friend turned back towards the ocean, watching in companiable silence as the last rays of the sun set on the horizon; sharing in an unspoken silence of understanding that he would never be a part.  
  
TBA ?????  
  
**I said it would be short, and I hope I conveyed the proper amount of Steve angst (I really wanted him to feel bad) and after rewriting it at least four times I gave up...the case story I have in mind is Steve wanting to understand what his father and Jess went through by taking an undercover assignment in prison!!!! Anyone that would like to share an idea for making Steve miserable---feel free!!** ( 


	3. Fighting for Understanding

Retribution, part 3  
  
"Fighting for Understanding"  
  
Summary: Two months after Steve overheard his father and Jesse on the patio, he's finally found an outlet for his jealousy...  
  
A/N: Thanks to everyone for the reviews...after a week on my 'death bed' fighting a severe bout of Meneare's I am finally posting part 3 and while I finally have a definite idea where I want to take the rest of the story (yes more Steve angst on the way, and from a devoted Jesse fan no less...*gasp*) it will be awhile before part four is posted...sorry! Any suggestions from Steve fans, or Jesse ones, for some hurtin' they'd like to see delivered to our boys', feel free to drop a line!!!!!  
  
Saavik...like your penname (wouldn't happen to be a Trekkie would we?)...and as for "flaming" reviews, rest assured they do not offend me in the least...I am actually amused by them and do not hesitate to write or post because of them but rather in "SPITE" of them! I write for me and for fans like you who know this is an amateur site and accept the inherent flaws made by amateur fic writers. Thanks again ;)  
  
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CGH  
  
Doctors Lounge  
  
"You're going to do what? Where?" Jesse exclaimed, nearly dropping the coffee pot that was in his hand.  
  
"I'm going on an undercover." Steve stated again, adding innocently. "Thought my doctor would be happy I'm finally recovered and can get back to my normal duties."  
  
The young doctor slowly replaced the coffee pot and turned to look at his friend in utter disbelief. "You cannot seriously be considering taking this assignment?"  
  
"Excuse me." Steve remarked impatiently. "There some reason I shouldn't?"  
  
"Some reason you shouldn't...I can think of plenty." Jesse exclaimed, adding. "Why in the world would you accept an assignment like this right now?"  
  
"Gee, I don't know Jess, maybe because it's just come up and it's my job. Criminals don't exactly synchronize their calendars with when it would be convenient for us to catch them." Steve said sarcastically.  
  
"That's not what I meant and you know it." Jesse shot back, not giving in to Steve's sarcasm. "Why would the Chief assign you this particular undercover assignment---after everything that has happened in the last six months---I'm sure there are other cops just as qualified. Is it because you wouldn't accept his job offer to the task force two months ago?"  
  
"No, Jess, it's nothing like that." Steve sighed, rolling his eyes.  
  
"Like you'd tell me even if it was." Jesse answered petulantly.  
  
"Jess, it's just a normal undercover, the longest it would go would be a few weeks." Steve said casually.  
  
"Just an undercover! Just an und..." Jesse was so stunned by Steve's casual attitude towards this assignment he could barely speak. "I cannot believe you said that; that you would really believe that! You are just barely off desk duty and..."  
  
Steve shoved his chair back angrily and stood towering over the younger man, poking his finger into Jesse's chest to punctuate his angry words. "*Are you trying to say I can't handle this assignment?*"  
  
"That's not what I said..." Jesse defended, backing up from his friend  
  
Steve continued to back the young man against the wall as his angry tirade continued. "Do you and my dad think I can put my life on hold indefinitely. You are the one who released me back to work and my normal duties...unless your now suddenly unsure of *your* skills, too--Doctor Travis...maybe I should get a second opinion?"  
  
Though taken back by his friend's uncharacteristic show of anger and cruelty, Jesse did not back down from the angry man. "As your *chosen* doctor of record Detective Sloan, I did release you, for normal and routine police duties-- but not for..."  
  
"So you don't think I can handle it." Steve again accused.  
  
"What! What is going on with you?" Jesse shot back, ducking around Steve to stand in the middle of the lounge.  
  
"There's nothing going on with me that couldn't be taken care of with a lot less interference from you, Doctor!" Steve accused.  
  
Stunned, Jesse took a step back. "Interference? Is that what you call saving the life of a friend...and trying to keep him alive and in one piece."  
  
His own anger building at Steve's continued callousness he got up in the larger man's space and poked his finger square in the detectives broad chest. "And for your information... my objections to this assignment have nothing to do with whether or not you can handle the assignment; its about *you*, you voluntarily going into a prison, after everything that's happened, have you even considered what this will do to your dad?"  
  
"Hold it right their Jesse," Steve warned menacingly. "This has absolutely nothing to do with my father--it's my job."  
  
"Fine, if it's just a job, have you told him yet?" Jesse snapped back angrily.  
  
"I don't need my father's permission." Steve ground out.  
  
"What is it with you? Why have you been acting so...so..."  
  
"So what?" Steve snapped, his tone challenging. "Just how have I been acting?"  
  
"Just listen to yourself! You've been on edge lately, you've been snapping at everyone for the least little thing. And now you take an assignment you know will unduly upset your father. For gods sake Steve, I just got you functioning...your dad is just getting back to his old self again..." Jesse explained carefully.  
  
"Oh, spare me." Steve snapped angrily, venom dripping off his next words. "I'm sure you won't be to far from my dad to see him through this latest *trauma*."  
  
Jesse gasped, falling back a step as if he'd been slapped. "What did you say?"  
  
"You heard me." Steve spat out, watching the reactions of hurt and shock play over the younger man's face.  
  
Steve had never intended to give verbalization to the feelings of guilt and remorse; (and, had he been willing to admit to himself, jealousy); that had been building steadily over the last two months since that night he overheard his father and Jesse on the patio, sharing a bond that he would never be a part, and now that it was out he wanted Jesse to feel in his pain.  
  
"I heard you, I just don't understand why would you say such a hateful thing?" Jesse asked, his voice quiet and rough by the maliciousness in his friend's tone. "Your father is my friend...you're my friend, I hope I can be there for either of you when you need me. Gods, Steve, if I didn't know any better...you all most sound...jealous?"  
  
Steve let out a dry, course laugh that was anything but mirthful. "Jealous? Of you? Give me a break Travis. What in the world would I have to be jealous of in you?"  
  
Eyes wide with disbelief Jesse could only exclaim. "My god, that's it isn't it--you're jealous! Of what? Because I was able to give your father a little bit of comfort the last two months...give him someone to talk to, to help him get past some of his nightmares. Gods, Steve, if anything I wish I wasn't the one to be able to help him..."  
  
"And you wouldn't be the one either...if it wasn't for me...dad went to prison because of me..." Steve yelled. "Do you have any idea how that makes me feel? Do you?"  
  
"Not because of you...because of what someone else did; and because he loves you." Jesse said, desperately trying to get Steve to see reason. "I wish none of this had ever happened...that you had never got shot, that your father hadn't gone to prison because of something he didn't do...you think I'm glad that we share something so horrific as what its like to be in prison!"  
  
"But it was you, wasn't it; because of me, again, because I arrested you...I locked you up for murder..." Steve snapped out angrily.  
  
Jesse turned from his friend and slumped onto the nearest couch, overwhelmed by the amount of guilt and anger that his friend had been carrying around with him all this time.  
  
As he watched Jesse slump down into the couch, putting his head in his hands, he also saw the young man's shoulders begin to shake and Steve's anger was immediately replaced with concern. "God, Jesse! Jesse, are you all right? I'm so sorry, I never meant..."  
  
Going to kneel by his distraught friend Steve pulled up suddenly, dumbfounded by what he heard. "Jesse, are...are you...laughing?"  
  
Jesse looked up, tears streaking his face as he tried to reign in his uncontrollable laughter. "I'm s...sor...sorry...S...Ste...ve...I juuu...I just... can't... can't help it..."  
  
"I think I need to call someone?" Steve asked, his concern for his friend's sanity growing. "Why, are you...laughing?"  
  
"Because...because of you..." Jesse said, shaking his head.  
  
Crossing his arms and frowning, Steve shot back. "I'm so glad I can provide you with so much amusement."  
  
Wiping his face, Jesse sat back to look up at his friend, quickly interjecting. "No Steve...you my friend have cornered the market on guilt...I don't believe you sometimes..."  
  
Totally confused and still fearing for Jesse's sanity Steve just shrugged his shoulders in bewilderment. "What are you talking about Jesse?"  
  
"Steve...look at me--do you really think I blame you for what happened to me?" Jesse asked, suddenly serious.  
  
"But I..."  
  
"But nothing...you did your job, I can't say that I wasn't surprised and even a little bit hurt, but you had a job to do and I would never want you to get in trouble because of me." Jesse said earnestly.  
  
"But I should have done something...tried harder..."  
  
"Tried harder and done what? What could you have done different." Jesse pressed. "I think you did a great job..."  
  
Steve just rolled his eyes. "How can you say that? You were arrested for gods sakes, you were in jail for almost six weeks!"  
  
"But my friend, the detective, didn't give up on me...didn't believe for a minute I was guilty and never stopped trying to prove my innocence." Jesse countered.  
  
Steve just shook his head wearily and collapsed into the other couch.  
  
Jesse stood up and went to sit on the small table to face his friend on the couch. "I don't blame you...you didn't set me up, you didn't plant the evidence...and it wasn't your fault you got shot or that your father was framed...it happened...its over, and we all need to move on."  
  
"God, Jess, how did everything get like this--so messed up?" Steve said tiredly, noting the sudden gleam in his friend's eyes he quickly added. "Don't answer that!"  
  
Jesse just let out a snort and shook his head.  
  
"I am sorry...I should never have said those things. You are a good friend...to me and my day..." Steve said earnestly, adding with a grin, "...and, yeah, I guess a pretty good doctor too."  
  
"Nice to hear it pal." Jess rebuked with a laugh, adding with a little more seriousness. "However, it's really not my forgiveness you need my friend...it's your own; it's time to let yourself off the hook--for everything. No more blame...no more misplaced guilt..."  
  
"Well..."  
  
"Okay, no more blame and less guilt." Jesse amended.  
  
"That I think I can handle." Steve said with nod of his head. Holding out his hand he said. "Friends again."  
  
"Again? We never stopped." Jesse said, returning the handshake.  
  
Noticing he time, Steve sighed loudly. "Damn, I need to get back to the station."  
  
"What's the hurry? What about lunch? Your dad should be done with his rounds soon, you always eat here on 'pigs-in-a-blanket day'." Jesse asked  
  
"Can't wait any longer, got a briefing at two." Steve replied, ignoring the barb against his culinary tastes as he headed for the door.  
  
"For what? You have a new case? Need any help?" Jesse asked eagerly.  
  
"Uh...it's for my new assignment." Steve answered reluctantly as he went out the lounge door.  
  
"What! Steve, I thought we had this settled?" Jesse exclaimed, following his friend out into the hallway.  
  
"What exactly was there to settle Jess, I have a new case...that's pretty much it." Steve said, not turning to look at his friend as they came to a stop at the elevator.  
  
"A new case that has you going undercover in the psychiatric ward of the federal prison." Jesse exclaimed in a low voice.  
  
"Jess..." Steve didn't really know what else to say to his friend to make him understand.  
  
Jesse just shook his head and held up his hands in defeat. "You know what...fine...go! Play your nutcase undercover whatever...why should I be worrying anyway...you'll fit right in with the rest of the patients anyway."  
  
"Thanks...hey, wait...what?" Steve's relief that his friend finally understood was short lived when his friend's words caught up to him as the elevator doors were closing. "What do you mean--'I should fit right in?'-- Jess...Jesse......"  
  
Jesse just shook his head and turned from the closed elevator. "If there's anything left of you when Mark finds out that is!"  
  
TBA?????????? 


End file.
